


Motion Sickness

by RoseByAnyOtherName17



Series: Everybody's Changing (You Are Too) [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Conversations, First Dates, First Kiss, Insecure Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Panic, Pre-Slash, Self-Sacrificing Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 03:12:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11614689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseByAnyOtherName17/pseuds/RoseByAnyOtherName17
Summary: Stiles knows exactly what it is that he's feeling, and it terrifies him, because Derek is better than he was before, and all Stiles has done is gotten worse.





	Motion Sickness

**Author's Note:**

> Part two - there will be another part, maybe more depending on how it goes :) enjoy

The problem was that Stiles knew exactly what it was he was feeling, and it scared him to death.

 

He didn’t avoid Derek—that would be obvious enough for even Scott—but he tried not to be alone with him too much either. Malia was always there helping Derek rebuild the house when Stiles showed up, which helped, even if sometimes they weren’t even working on it and were instead circling each other in the front yard, both in full shift and growling playfully at each other. Hayden liked to call out things like, “Get your tails dirty already!” which inevitably made Malia leap forward and tackle Derek. Stiles laughed with everyone else at the unpredictability of what followed; Derek was bigger in his wolf form, but Malia was quick on her paws after so many years of being nothing but a coyote. It always ended with Liam rolling his eyes and yelling, “Am I the only one who cares about getting this house finished so we can run the sanctuary for lost werewolves?” Derek would shift back to human and say sternly that they were _not_ calling it that, and Stiles would look away until he had pulled on the dirty pair of jeans he wore for working because looking at Derek naked was just asking for trouble, and it made his heart skip in that way that scared him all over again.

 

It was Lydia who noticed first, and really, he wouldn’t have expected anything else. “He’s been looking at you,” she said casually, and Stiles didn’t have to ask who.

 

“He’s been looking at me because I’m different than when he left.”

 

“He’s been back long enough to get used to that,” Lydia pointed out. “No, Stiles, he’s been _looking_ at you.”

 

“And?”

 

Lydia pulled his book away from him and forced Stiles to look at her. “And you’ve been looking at him too.”

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stiles scoffed, trying to grab his book back. “I don’t look at anyone anymore.”

 

“Exactly.” Lydia smacked his hand away and leveled him with her best “don’t bullshit me” glare. “Except when you do look, and you’re looking at him. The thing is, it’s always when you know he isn’t paying attention, whereas he looks _all the time_. Stiles, I know what that look is, because I used to see it every time you looked at me. You’re both wearing the same expression, only he doesn’t care who sees him.”

 

“Lydia…”

 

“I don’t care that you’re looking at him like that,” she said softly, touching his hand to get him to meet her eyes. “I think it’s good. You’ve been alone, Stiles, and that’s not good for you. I know why you and me didn’t work, I know why you ended us, but you have control now, and so does he. Just because it’s over for the two of us doesn’t mean you have to stay by yourself.”

 

Stiles sighed. “He deserves someone better, especially after all the crap he went through.”

 

“Stiles, _you’re_ better.”

 

“But I’m not the best,” Stiles argued. “And if there’s even a chance that someone better than me could come along and make him happy, I’m not going to stand in the way of that. If I do something about this, and we start something, and then they show up, he’s going to be stuck with me. I’m not…that won’t happen. I won’t let it.”

 

“That’s crap and you know it,” Lydia insisted. “I know you’re scared, but—”

 

Stiles stood up. “I have to get back to work.”

 

Lydia stood too, grabbing his wrist. “Don’t do that. Don’t just walk away.”

 

Stiles felt it when his eyes glowed bright green for just a second without his permission, saw Lydia falter. “That’s why I can’t, Lydia,” he said softly, and left.

 

**

 

But now he couldn’t stop thinking about it all: Derek calling his body beautiful, the way he’d ripped the burning clothes off of Stiles, the look in his eyes when he rubbed circles into the hollow of Stiles’ hip. Every time he saw Derek, he felt it rising up in his chest, a physical ache, and he couldn’t do it. He had to look away.

 

It was easy to find distractions in work and in Anna though. She made progress quickly, holding onto the little heartbeat echoing her own inside her. It took three months for her to be completely in control, something Derek said he had never seen before even in born wolves. “I can’t thank you enough,” she said to them both, grasping Derek’s hand and then hugging Stiles. “I could not have done this without your help.”

 

“You could have,” Derek told her. “It would’ve been difficult, but you could do it.”

 

Anna and Robert were preparing to leave, bags packed and ready to go in the Toyota. Stiles was driving them to the airport, but they insisted on saying goodbye to everyone before they left, which was why everyone was at the nearly-finished Hale house. Hugs were passed around, Lydia and Hayden both smiled uncontrollably at the feeling of the baby kicking at Anna’s stomach, and Liam pretended not to be affected, though Stiles could see the secret little smile on his face.

 

When it came time to leave, Derek climbed into the passenger seat and settled back, turning in his seat to chat with Robert about what renovations they might make on their house in South America. Stiles stared at him for a long moment until Derek smiled at him and said, “We’re going to be late if you don’t start the car.”

 

_That damn smile._

 

Stiles knew how to use magic to cloak his feelings, and he did it now, even though there wasn’t even really any reason to. He hated how relaxed he felt the whole drive to the airport, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the console so he could easily change the song playing on his iPod. He laughed when Derek growled distastefully at _Hungry Like The Wolf_ and couldn’t stop smiling as Derek told them about the time Stiles had held him up in the pool for two and a half hours. “He was almost crying by the end of it.”

 

“There was no crying in the pool,” Stiles protested. “There was almost crying before that, but that was because you let all of the air out of a basketball with your _claws_ and looked like you were going to let Erica hit me over the head with a part of my own car again.”

 

“Sounds like you two didn’t really like each other much in the beginning,” Robert said, laughing.

 

“It took some time,” Derek admitted, and Stiles glanced over at him. _How much time?_ Derek had seemed pretty irritated with his very presence right up until that last night in Mexico, before Stiles stopped Liam from ripping his throat out. Then, for a moment, there had been a flash of…something. But Stiles didn’t have time to analyze it because minutes later Derek was lying on the ground, dying, telling Stiles to go save Scott. Derek would never know how hard it had been to just leave, even knowing that Braeden was there, because for the first time Derek could actually _die_ and for all that had happened between them, Stiles cared.

 

His hand clenched on the steering wheel and he could see Derek looking at him, frowning. Stiles smiled reassuringly and put his barriers back up, but the rest of the ride was mostly forced, light conversation about what Anna and Robert would do when the baby came. They offered to help the couple with their bags at the airport, but they declined and hugged them both again, promising to call after the next full moon. The tension lessened somewhat when Derek and Stiles slid back into the Toyota, but Derek wouldn’t stop staring at him until Stiles said, “I will start playing my wolf playlist if you don’t quit that.”

 

“Pretty sure your iPod won’t survive hitting the asphalt,” Derek responded casually, but he looked away and busied himself looking through the iPod himself, choosing songs that were to his liking. Stiles let him, and after awhile they lapsed into a comfortable silence.

 

It was one in the afternoon when they got back into Beacon Hills. “We should get lunch,” Derek said suddenly.

 

Stiles tensed again, but he threw a smile at Derek and asked, “Where?” Derek grinned at that, open and happy and a little relieved, and Stiles wondered how long he had been psyching himself up for those four small words. It made his heart hurt with longing and fear all at once, but he ignored it and pulled into the parking lot that Derek pointed out on the outskirts of town.

 

“What is this place?” he asked once they stepped inside. It felt like stepping back into the past and the future at the same time. The walls were silver with electric blue trim, but the tables and booths looked like something out of a movie set in the 1950s, and the counter was this big wraparound thing with stools spaced out along its length. Stiles had never been here in his life.

 

“Peter would bring me here after school sometimes,” Derek said. He smiled at the waitress that approached them and told her it was just the two of them, and once they were seated in the corner, he continued. “It’s where I told Laura that the fire was my fault too. That’s why we left, because she couldn’t look at me the same and this place had been ruined for me.” His voice was steady, completely casual, and Stiles didn’t know what to do with this information.

 

“It wasn’t your fault,” he settled on.

 

“I know that now,” Derek assured him. “That’s why I wanted to come here. To see if it would hurt.”

 

“Does it?”

 

Derek smiled softly. “No.” He moved closer to Stiles along the booth until their knees touched under the table. Stiles felt his heartbeat pick up and he drew up the barrier again, keeping his expression as neutral as he could with Derek sitting adjacent to him and smiling so genuinely like that.

 

They were there for an hour, eating and talking about anything that came to mind. Derek told Stiles about living in Chicago, then New York City and how much he’d hated it. “I missed being here,” he said, “but Laura went back to being my older sister away from it all and we were happy, or as happy as we could be.”

 

“Why did she come back?”

 

“She wanted to move Peter to a hospital closer to us,” Derek explained. “We hadn’t until then because we didn’t know how long we’d be staying, but New York felt pretty permanent, so she made the move. When she didn’t call, I went and…you know the rest of it.” He hooked an ankle around Stiles’ underneath the table and offered him a shrug. “I used to think that you should’ve been turned and not Scott. You were annoying as hell and all over the place, but you had focus when you needed it and you did what needed to be done. Scott was…he got too distracted.”

 

“Probably didn’t help that the day after he was turned into a werewolf, he met the prettiest girl he had ever seen,” Stiles snorted. “If she had come along later, he could’ve learned to focus on everything else, but there Allison was, demanding his attention. He never had a chance.”

 

“It isn’t just that.” Derek shook his head. “You had…power, in a way. Power in knowledge, in yourself. I might have hated you for it.”

 

“Oh, you definitely hated me.” Stiles was grinning now though. “You’re not the only one who thought I should’ve been the werewolf in our friendship.”

 

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Who else?”

 

“Peter. When we were tracking Scott’s phone to find you, he offered me the bite.”

 

Derek went tense all over, the lines of his shoulders stiffening and the foot between Stiles’ twitching. “You never told me that.”

 

“It didn’t seem to matter in light of everything.” Stiles shrugged. “You were missing, and then after, Peter was gone. You got yourself a pack. It never occurred to me to tell you.”

 

“You know, my first thought was to ask you,” Derek said suddenly. “Almost as soon as I got that power, you were the first person to come to mind. You were already strong, smart, internally controlled, you would’ve taken to it perfectly.”

 

Stiles looked away. “I probably would’ve said yes,” he admitted.

 

The waitress brought them the check and Stiles automatically reached for his wallet. “I’ve got it,” Derek said, putting a hand over his and bringing the check over to himself. “I’m the one who suggested we go eat.”

 

It made Stiles freeze all over, because Derek was touching him and paying for their food and asking him in the first place… _oh god, this is a date._ The idea was simultaneously terrifying and thrilling, and he felt his stomach sink and his heart pick up again. The triskele on his hip seemed to burn and he knew he was turning red, but Derek didn’t say anything about it, just paid and smiled at the waitress and followed Stiles back to the car.

 

“Did Scott tell you everything else that happened after you left?” he said shakily when he pulled up outside Derek’s apartment complex. He had to make sure.

 

“As much as he could,” Derek answered, frowning a little at the suddenness of the question. “He said you and Lydia were together for awhile.”

 

“We were, but I ended it, just like I had with Malia.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I hurt her.” Stiles looked him in the eye. “I lost control one night when we were—and she had a burn on her arm in the shape of my hand, because I lost control. Not from heat, but a cold burn, like the kind you get when you come into contact with dry ice for too long. She told me it felt like I’d frozen her from the inside out, and she asked me what happened, and I didn’t know. She never blamed me for it, but I made her leave and I didn’t let her come near me again. I didn’t let _anyone_ come close to me until I knew for sure that I wouldn’t hurt them. No one touches me anymore, not really. We all got used to just…keeping our distance. Especially me, so, just…I can’t, okay? I can’t do…”

 

Derek searched his face, eyes sad. “I’m not asking you to do anything,” he said finally. “But I trust you, Stiles. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. And I wouldn’t have taken anyone else to that diner.”

 

Stiles closed his eyes. “Don’t.”

 

“Why not?” Derek had a hand curled around his forearm where he held the steering wheel hard, and he sounded determined.

 

Stiles shook his head, pulled his arm away and unlocked the doors. “Derek.”

 

Derek got out and Stiles waited to open his eyes until the passenger side door shut. He was about to leave when Derek tapped on the driver’s side window, and when he rolled it down, Derek wrapped a hand around the back of Stiles’ neck and pulled him forward until their foreheads were pressed together. Stiles couldn’t hide his emotions behind magic and he knew Derek could smell his anxiety, hear his heartbeat, feel the clamminess of his skin. “Stop,” he said weakly.

 

“Your eyes,” Derek whispered. “Stiles, your _eyes._ ”

 

“That’s what happens when I’m feeling too much,” Stiles gasped. “Which is why you need to _go,_ Derek.” He was trying to scare Derek away now, because all of these feelings were overwhelming and he hadn’t felt that in a very long time.

 

“They’re amazing,” Derek murmured. “Stiles—” His eyes turned blue between one breath and the next, and Stiles stopped breathing altogether when Derek kissed him.

 

He held on to the steering wheel so tightly that his fingers hurt, but Derek sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and Stiles shuddered all over. He was helpless to do anything but kiss back, let Derek tilt his head to lick messily into him, and he could feel the magic twisting beneath his skin, racing to his fingertips, urging him to hold onto Derek and just _take._

 

And it was that feeling that made Stiles wrench away and shift the Toyota into gear. “I have to go.”

 

Derek stepped back and let him drive away, but he looked back in the rearview just once, and the werewolf was watching him go, a smile spread over his face.

 

**

 

 _Now_ Stiles was avoiding Derek.

 

He skipped out on meetings with the pack when he could, taking extra shifts at the station and conveniently leaving his phone off, knowing that if there were a real emergency, he would be called on the emergency flip phone he kept on him at all times.

 

Lydia gave him disapproving looks when they were together but remained silent, and everyone had figured out that something was wrong—Stiles was even quieter than they had gotten used to him being. But Malia, ever subtle (ha), was in his apartment one night, a night he knew there was a movie night and had told Scott he couldn’t make it to. “What the hell, Malia?” Stiles demanded upon entering after a long shift of paperwork. “That key is for emergencies only, you know that.”

 

“You’re avoiding Derek,” she said.

 

Stiles gave himself a moment to cloak his emotions and bodily reactions. “I’m not.”

 

“You’re lying,” Malia argued immediately. “You’re blocking me right now so that I can’t tell.”

 

Stiles sighed. “Look, I’m worn out, can we talk about this another time?”

 

“No.” She did step forward and take his duffle bag from him though, allowing him to take off his work jacket and move toward his room to change. “It’s been two weeks since any of us saw you for more than a few minutes at a time. I asked Derek and he hasn’t seen you since you two took Anna and Robert to the airport.” She followed him to his room, but stayed in the hallway so he could strip his clothes off and put on some comfortable jeans and a t-shirt. “Since he’s the only one who hasn’t seen you _at all_ , it’s got to be him, so what’s up with you? What happened?”

 

“I could lose control with him, Malia.” She trailed after him to the kitchen while he talked, pulling out a water bottle and taking a drink before continuing. “We were—and my eyes turned and I could feel it all under my skin, and that hasn’t happened in a long time.”

 

“Your eyes turn green every time we’re fighting,” Malia pointed out. “And it’s bound to feel like that, Stiles. Magic can be contained, but—”

 

“You don’t understand,” he interrupted her, slamming the bottle down in frustration. “It was moving, _right there_ under the surface, and if it had gone any further than kissing something would’ve happened, I know it. I couldn’t even let myself touch him.”

 

Malia watched him with narrowed eyes. “Stiles, we were together for almost a year, and for half of that I was still gaining control. There were a few times where I came close to doing more than just leaving scratches down your back, remember that? You bled a few times, but that didn’t stop you from letting me in anyways. It’s not about control and you know it. We’ve all lost it at some point, so what is it really?”

 

Stiles gripped the counter and closed his eyes, the fight flooding out of him and leaving him limp. “I’m scared. Of hurting him, yes, but also of letting him in. Malia, I’ve been alone for a long time, ever since Lydia. I’m used to it, I’m by myself and that’s fine, but he came back and now I want things again, things that I can’t risk having.”

 

“And what if he wants it too?”

 

So he told her the same thing he had said to Lydia: “Someday, someone might come along that’s better for him. If we’re together, he won’t get to have that, and I won’t be the person who keeps him from the best he can get. He deserves everything good after all that he’s been through. And believe me, I’m not the best. I’m not kind, I’m not a good person at all. I’ve learned how to be cruel, more than I was, and eventually we’re going to get into another fight again and he’ll see that.” Malia opened her mouth to protest, but Stiles kept going. “He’s so much better now, can’t you see that? He left and he got better and he’s not tearing himself up inside anymore over things that he can’t help.”

 

Malia gazed at him with unusual softness. “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself, not me.”

 

Stiles shook his head. “No, it’s what I’m going to say to convince _him_ if anything happens again. Which it won’t, if I can help it.”

 

“Okay, but you’re not going to help it from here.” Malia grabbed the hoodie he liked wearing to cover his tattoos when he was out in public and not on duty. “You’re coming to movie night tonight, and you’re going to stop keeping your phone off all the time. You staying away from Derek means you’re avoiding us too, and we miss you. So get some shoes and let’s go.”

 

Stiles agreed reluctantly, doing as she said, and only complained a little when she told him she was driving. Truthfully, he missed the pack too, but he wanted to be able to leave when he wanted, and with Malia taking him, he would have to stay until someone else decided to go home, which wouldn’t happen until morning. _At least it’s at the loft,_ he thought on the way. Liam and Hayden had moved into it just after they graduated high school, and a year later Mason and Corey moved in too. But there was plenty of space for everyone, and he could find somewhere to be alone if pressed.

 

He didn’t anticipate on them being late though, and everyone was there and sprawled about with the first movie already playing by the time they arrived. Malia sprawled out across the floor, which was covered in blankets and pillows, and the only spot left was next to Derek if Stiles didn’t want to stand the whole time. He glared at Lydia, convinced she had something to do with this, but she was seemingly engrossed in the Marvel movie that was on and didn’t notice. Derek caught his eye and smiled and _god,_ it was devastating. Stiles couldn’t even stop himself smiling back before he took the seat and the bowl of popcorn that Derek silently offered. For a second he forgot everything he had said to Malia, but halfway through Derek leaned into him just a little, just enough for their legs to press together from thigh to ankle and for Derek’s elbow to brush his stomach every time Stiles breathed, and it all came flooding back. It was too hard to focus on the movie with Derek so close now, but he was against the arm of the couch and had nowhere to go, so he settled for staying completely still, even as Derek relaxed in increments and was relying on Stiles to support almost all of his body weight by the end of the movie. They weren’t cuddling, weren’t even close, but there wasn’t an inch of space between their sides anymore.

 

Scott picked the next movie, _American Pyscho_ , and when everyone else was laughing at the ridiculous sex scene, Stiles could only think about how warm Derek was next to him. And there were those feelings again, gathering in his chest, pooling in his stomach and spreading all the way to his toes. He tried to remember how afraid he was of it, but it was hard when Derek was nudging him and offering him a piece of a Kit-Kat. Derek’s eyes were happy, dancing with amusement, and it was all Stiles could do not to curl closer, to just let himself have this.

 

**

 

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but Stiles was slumped against the arm of the chair. In the dark he could vaguely make out several sleeping shapes (with the exceptions of Hayden, Liam, Corey and Mason). He snuggled deeper into the couch, and Derek fell further into him, head in the crook of Stiles’ neck, one leg bent under himself and the other thrown across Stiles’ lap. Stiles stared at him for a long time, trying to figure out how to move, but in the end it was just easier to fall back asleep. And if he let his head fall on top of Derek’s hair, no one could blame him; it was dark, and he was _so_ tired.


End file.
